The Plans That We've Made
by aspiringtoeloquence
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are back in Ohio for the holidays, and it feels like the next few weeks could be important in so many ways.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Plans That We've Made

Author: **mybriefeternity** (aka aspiringtoeloquence)  
>Rating: RM for sexual content and language.  
>Spoilers: The name of a character in 3x15, otherwise nothing much beyond the beginning of S3.<br>Summary: Kurt and Blaine are back in Ohio for the holidays, and it feels like the next few weeks could be important in so many ways.  
>Beta: <strong>klemonademouth<strong>, who is wonderful. (And, to my almost second beta, I hope you're doing well!)  
>AN: This fic belongs to the spectacular and ever-patient **daxterdd**, who won it in the Darren Fans Charity Rockout auction in August (the proceeds of which went directly to The Trevor Project). It has taken a long time to get here, especially since she gave me the prompt at the beginning of November, but it turned into something a little more than I'd imagined. I hope it's everything she wanted. And yes, I am posting holiday fic in March (just). Because seasonally inappropriate Klaine should _never_ go out of style. Title from the song _Winter Wonderland_.

* * *

><p>Being back in Ohio felt surprisingly good.<p>

Blaine was pretty sure that after the month-long stay he and Kurt had planned they'd both be _itching_ to get back to the city - Kurt to his internship, Blaine to a full class load. But now, a few days in and sitting on the couch in the Hudson-Hummel house, with Kurt curled up next to him reading a book as Finn threw his arms in the air indignantly at the referee on the television (whose parentage was being drawn into question), it felt like he could stop and appreciate everything. Burt was sitting in his chair, commenting on the defense's lack of follow through, and his son looked up every so often with (_very_) mild interest, soon returning to his book. Carole had just gotten back from some holiday shopping, and had been having a quiet cup of tea and reading the paper in the dining room.

Blaine knew that their apartment in New York was becoming home to him now, but this felt right. This felt like home too. Holidays back in Ohio with the family.

"Blaine, honey, did your parents decide what day they're coming back?"

Blaine looked up to find Carole leaning on the arm of Burt's chair, her arm around her husband's shoulders.

He shrugged. "Last time I talked to them they were planning to stay at the resort through New Year and into January. I haven't heard anything different."

He felt his boyfriend tense next to him and saw Carole's eyes narrow slightly.

"They asked me to join them," Blaine felt like he had to add. "But I told them I didn't really feel like piňa coladas over the holidays."

Blaine wasn't sure why he felt like he had to do that, defend them, like always. But the way Carole's face softened and Kurt shifted slightly into him told him that they understood.

He loved his parents. And they, in their way, loved him.

Theirs just wasn't a _comfortable_ _family holiday_ kind of relationship. His brother avoided them as often as possible, not that he could blame him, and they'd talked a few days before, Cooper from his cellphone at a ski lodge in Aspen. Blaine had declined his invitation too – Cooper would be back on the East coast fairly soon, and New York would be his first stop.

"Well," Carole said cheerfully. "It's a good thing we're not letting you go - I was afraid we'd have you stolen from us and I'd have bought too much turkey. Finn would have been forced to eat the leftovers."

"Leftovers?" said Finn with interest, tearing himself away from the TV. "Leftover what? Are there more sandwiches?"

"If you make them." She moved to settle in the other armchair and picked up a discarded catalogue. "You know where the kitchen is."

This seemed to be either untrue or too much work, and Finn simply returned his attention to the game. Blaine cleared his throat.

"I'd be delighted to stay for Christmas dinner, but I don't want to be an imposition."

It was Burt who snorted at this. "Don't be ridiculous. When Kurt said you two were coming Carole got this gleam in her eye and started talking about extra pie fillings. Bought out the store."

Carole elbowed him. "I'll handle the pie. You just concentrate on these gravy and sweet potatoes I keep hearing about."

"I told you, last year was a fluke. They must have -"

"I'm so sure. Well, just make sure there's enough of your gravy to feed the five of us, because in five years of marriage I have yet to see you make any gravy that wasn't instant -"

"Hey, Thanksgiving dinner was good. And you and Kurt taught me how to make a bunch of new stuff. I'm learning!"

She smiled softly. "Yes, you are." She kissed him on the forehead, and Blaine felt his chest tighten at the simple moment.

Kurt laced their fingers together, his gaze only partially lifted from the book. "I hope you're limiting Dad's input to gravy and possibly vegetables, because if you remember the last time -"

Burt gave Kurt a displeased look, then glanced to his wife's grinning face. He turned to Blaine. "Beware, Blaine," he said resignedly, "I'm not sure why they're so alike, must be all those years keeping me away from cake, or something in the water, but they smile all nice… underneath it's all evil. And vegetables."

Carole patted his head comfortingly. "I think I'm done with the Christmas shopping - I'm off to wrap the last few." She raised her voice. "And I'm hiding them well this year, so certain people had better stay out."

Finn glanced up, indignant.

Blaine just smiled. He'd been invited to Christmas at the Hummel-Hudson's every year since he and Kurt had started dating. In previous years he'd been the dutiful son at his own family's stilted Christmas meal, and excused himself as soon as possible to drive over and spend the evening curled up with Kurt on the couch, playing whatever board game had been deemed festive that year and exchanging presents with his boyfriend. Then eventually, with his boyfriend's family, too, in the meaningful way. He had the feeling that that was what the holidays were meant to be, not awkward dinners or dinner parties where his parents were eager to show off his accomplishments while being clearly markedly uncomfortable acknowledging other things… like, for example, his more-than-five-year relationship.

Kurt had been to dinner at his family's house quite a few times - he always accepted when he was invited, and Blaine saw that as a demonstration of true love. Those dinners hadn't been catastrophic, no one had fought, or thrown anything - it had just been clear that his parents were uncomfortable, which made Blaine uncomfortable on Kurt's behalf, and after the dinner on the Friday after Thanksgiving, when Blaine's father accidentally implied that Kurt was solely responsible for Blaine's continued resistance to finding a nice girl and settling down, and Blaine had needed to be forcibly removed from the room by his irritatingly calm boyfriend, he'd been kind of relieved to find out that his parents would be gone for the holidays, even if staying in the empty house, as he had been since they'd gotten in from New York a couple of days earlier, did make him a little mopey.

He was looking forward to a full Hummel-Hudson Christmas, stealing kisses all day from his warm boyfriend, and he said so that night as he was finishing his coffee before heading back to his house for the night. Living together in New York was so much more than he'd imagined, but it was also _real_, and they didn't always have as much time to spend with each other as they'd like. This vacation was, in his view, so needed. He wanted to soak up every moment of Kurt that he could.

He and Kurt were alone in the kitchen, and Kurt was playing with his collar. "Do you want to… stay?" he asked.

Blaine smiled. "I'd love to, if you think it'll be okay."

Kurt bit his lip. "I don't mean for tonight." He caught his bottom lip with his teeth briefly. "I mean for the month. Through New Years…until your parents get back. Do you want to stay here with me?"

"I'm fine, Kurt. I can manage on my own, you -"

"I know," Kurt insisted, blushing slightly. "I just… I want you to stay here. With me. If you want to. We could stay at yours, if you really wanted to, but it seems - I'd like to be here. With my family. My _whole_ family. If you want."

Blaine could recognize the ridiculousness of this conversation - with its underlying nervousness, like Kurt actually thought the answer might be no - taking place in a relationship that had been going on for over five years. "Of course I want to stay with you. I always want to. You know that. But I'm not sure your dad -"

Kurt abruptly stood and pulled him towards the den, stopping in the doorway. "Dad? Carole?"

Burt looked up. "Yeah, kiddo?"

"Can Blaine stay here with us for the holidays? It doesn't make sense for him to drive back and forth in the bad weather, and most of the Warblers have families out of state, so most of our friends are around here anyway, and… and I want him to." He cleared his throat. "Please."

Burt seemed slightly amused by his son's stance, but was appraising them with a gaze Blaine only wished he could identify. Kurt's dad knew they were living together in a cramped one bedroom apartment, had been for over two years, and he also knew that they'd been sexually active _long_ before that. Blaine had stayed over before - both with and without permission (and in the early days, always _with_ and situated very firmly on the couch) - and he was fairly certain that Kurt's request didn't come as a _shock_ in any way. But a sleepover was different than staying in Burt's son's bedroom for several weeks, every night, and neither of them had ever asked for anything like that before. Carole was just smiling neutrally.

Burt met his wife's eye, than cleared his throat. "Does Blaine get any say in this, or have you just decided for him?"

Kurt drew his lips together, but before he could speak Blaine did. "I'd like to stay. It'd be fun, and I haven't gotten to spend time in Lima, or with you all, in a while. If it's okay with you... I'd like to take Kurt up on his offer. But I don't want to intrude -"

Burt snorted, shook his head bemusedly, then glanced at his son. "You know the rules."

Kurt flushed and rolled his eyes in a way that was reminiscent of his high school years. "Yes, dad._ Thanks_." He hadn't let go of Blaine's hand, and he felt Kurt relax. "Blaine and I are going to go to his house to get his stuff." He turned to Blaine. "Okay if I come?"

"Of course."

Burt checked his watch. "Getting late. It's a drive."

"We can stay there tonight..." Blaine offered, squeezing Kurt's hand questioningly. "Drive back in the morning."

Carole nodded. "That's a good idea. Do you have food in the fridge? I can heat -"

Blaine laughed. "We'll be fine. I'll just grab my coat."

"I'm going to go get my phone," Kurt smiled. "I'll be back."

He disappeared up the stairs, returning five minutes later with a scarf and his boots. "I think I still have some clothes at your house," he mused. "I don't know what condition they're in…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me." Kurt smirked, following him out the front door and echoing his parting shout to Carole.

Blaine just rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p>The first thing they did at Blaine's house was make coffee - Kurt had an obsession with the espresso machine - and packed away some clothes. It didn't take long; much of his stuff had been in New York and he hadn't really unpacked yet, and they soon found themselves flicking through late night TV, bickering over whether to make popcorn and which late night host was the funniest. As they got ready for bed - Blaine's bed, the one that held a great many memories for them, a few firsts, and a lot of awkward conversations - Kurt reminded him to put his wrapped presents with the stuff to take.<p>

"I already did," he replied. "And don't go rearranging them. I know your game, Kurt Hummel. Feeling up your Christmas present is bad form."

Kurt scoffed as he pulled a travel size bottle of moisturizer out of one of the drawers in Blaine's bathroom. Blaine had no idea how long ago he'd put it there. He smiled.

"I don't know what you're talking about.""I'm talking about your blatant attempts to work out what I got you by handling it inappropriately."

There was silence until Kurt reappeared, wearing an old Dalton shirt (that was actually his, but Blaine had stolen years ago) and pajama bottoms. He smirked. "I_do_like handling things inappropriately."

Blaine hummed and pulled him onto the bed. "You are not seducing me into telling you what your presents are.

"There's more than one?"

"My lips are sealed."

"What a pity." He tilted his head. "Hey, Blaine?"

"Mmmm."

"What did you get me?"

"What did _you_ get _me_?"

"It's a secret."

"Hypocrite."

Kurt just kissed him and settled under the covers. "I love you."

Blaine looked down at him from his seated position against the pillows. "I love you too."

He thought about the wrapped gifts in his suitcase, that he knew Kurt would love, and then he thought about the other thing. Something he'd decided, known long ago that he wanted to get, that he'd been waiting for the right time to bring up again.

And as Kurt reached for him, grinning impishly as his hands ran up Blaine's chest, and their lips met, warm and familiar and still so damn hot after almost six years, he thought that maybe this month, in Ohio, where it all began, might be it.

Soon, sometime in the next few weeks, it might be the perfect moment.

* * *

><p>"You know I'm happy to be here, Blaine, but I'm not sure how much help I'm gonna actually be."<p>

He pressed the button to lock his car doors and shrugged at Mike, who was unfolding himself from the passenger seat. "I really kind of just need someone here, you know. To keep me… focused."

Mike made a face. "I'm all about the moral support, but wouldn't someone like Tina or… even Rachel be better at this?"

Blaine smiled, shaking his head. Rachel would tell Kurt immediately, and Tina, even if she were in town yet, would be far too emotional about the whole thing. Mike was supportive, thoughtful, and they'd bonded during their time in New Directions (when you're a jet, you're a jet), as well as keeping in contact after his graduation – although mostly through Tina at first. Blaine and Tina had lamented their long-distance woes over frozen yoghurt _many_ times over the course of senior year.

And he'd known he made the right choice when he'd met Mike for lunch, and quietly confessed that he needed his help. The concern and then, later, delight ("Dude, that's awesome!… Not that we didn't all see it coming about five years ago, but still!") on his face made him very glad Mike was still there, in the broad sense of the term. Not everyone from New Directions had stayed in touch after high school, and many of them were sporadic in what little contact they did have. They were leading their own lives, as they should be, but it was still good to know who you could count on.

"Why, you have somewhere better to be?" Blaine asked with a grin as they crossed the parking lot.

Mike snorted. "No one's back in town for the holidays yet."

"Oh, _thanks_," he deadpanned. "But I know what you mean. Northeastern's term _does_ run quite late."

Mike flushed as he reached for the door handle. "I don't know what you're talking about," he evaded over his shoulder as he rushed through.

Blaine was torn between a sigh and a laugh. Apparently they were still doing _that_, then.

"Tina will be back next week."

Mike looked around and hummed noncommittally. "I saw. On Facebook. We're Facebook friends."

"Everybody _knows_, Mike."

"Knows what?"

"That you got back together over the summer."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Fine. Be that way."

Mike made a frustrated face, then scratched his head under his fedora. "So… what are we looking for? I mean… specifically. What type? You kind of know what you want, right?"

Blaine smiled as he looked around the jewelers.

"It's Kurt's _engagement ring_," he said with certainty. "When I find it, I'll know."

* * *

><p>"Why now?"<p>

Blaine looked up from the display case. It was their third store, and save for occasional commentary, he and Mike hadn't spoken much. That was something he appreciated about Mike - he knew the value of silence, chose his words carefully. He was a dancer, trained to express his thoughts with his body, and he had a quality - a comfort inside his own skin - that Blaine envied. It meant that their silence was never awkward - just a absence of a need to speak. He was just there, quietly supporting him, like Blaine had asked.

It was a fair question. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "We've talked about it before, getting married" - actually, they'd been talking about it in the abstract for a long time, longer than was probably socially acceptable. He and Kurt had always been anything but traditional - "…we both knew we wanted it someday, but we always said we'd wait until after college. Undergrad, at least."

"You're still _in_ college," Mike pointed out, as though Blaine might have overlooked this fact.

"Yes. But I graduate in May, and… I don't know. It feels right. I feel like…" He thought for a moment, struggled to vocalize the buzz that had been growing under his skin for what felt like forever. "I feel like I want to start the next chapter of our lives, and I want to do it as soon as possible. It - it just feels like the right time."

Mike seemed to consider this. "And did you know _you_'d propose, or…"

Blaine leaned against the wooden finish of the display. "Yes, I think so. But it's not because someone applied some… something to us, or whatever. I think… I think the way we've talked about it, the way we are right now…Kurt won't ask until he thinks I'm ready, because he wants to protect me from un-thought-out impulsive choices." He rolled his eyes again.

"Well, this is kind of impulsive. You guys are really young, you're only -"

Blaine stood up straight, looking him in the eye. "I've been with Kurt for almost six years. I've always known I was going to marry him, if he'd have me, whether he asked or I did. I love him, and he loves me, and at one point it might have been considered naive for me to insist that I'd marry my high school sweetheart, but now he's my college sweetheart too, and I want him to be my husband. And whoever doesn't like that can fuck off."

Mike let the silence that followed linger, his surprise evident, but eventually just raised an eyebrow. "You practice that speech much?"

Blaine fiddled with his scarf. "I'm gonna have to tell my parents eventually." He gestured to the long case of rings. "None of these are right. None of them are Kurt."

Mike's shoulders settled. "Store number four?"

Blaine grinned. "I feel really good about number four."

* * *

><p>"So… how does it work?"<p>

Blaine indicated and merged into the left lane. "How does what work? Please tell me you haven't suddenly become curious about gay sex, because that conversation with Finn scarred me for life."

"In his defense, I think he was pretending to be interested to show his support."

"A nice pat on the shoulder would have done just fine."

"The whole ring thing. I mean, do you both wear engagement rings, or are they your wedding bands, or do you get different ones...?"

Blaine shrugged. "Whatever we want. I'm getting this for Kurt, and if he says yes -"

"If?"

"-then we'll find one for me sometime, I hope. I want to wear_ something_, probably similar. I kind of like the idea of swapping it with a band at the ceremony, to the left hand, and Kurt will probably want to pick our bands together, as well, but if we _like_ the rings I suppose we could get them inscribed and use them… I kinda like that idea too, or… It's not like there are rules, or anything. We'll work out what we want to do. I looked around in New York a few times, but I didn't find anything that was... I don't know. I'll know when I find it, and Kurt and I will know what to do."

Mike looked at him. "You really love him."

"Yep."

There was a long pause.

"I'm still in love with Tina."

Blaine glaned over at him. "I know." A pause. "Everyone knows."

He looked sheepish. "Everyone?"

An emphatic nod. "_Everyone_."

"So when Tina said on Facebook that she was seeing someone new -"

"We all knew she was lying," Blaine confirmed cheerfully.

"How did you -"

"Remember over the summer, when Rachel had that barbecue?"

"Yeah…"

"No one takes that long getting a sweater from a car. That was the confirmation."

"We were just talking."

"Uh huh."

Mike abruptly switched the radio to something softer and idly moved his feet around a little, using his other hand to play with his hat. Blaine was willing to bet he didn't even know he was doing it. "That was a couple of weeks after we… we weren't really sure what it was yet. I mean, nothing had really changed."

"She was still in Boston, you mean."

"She's applying to grad schools. She wants to go to New York or D.C. But she applied to Chicago too. Northwestern."

Blaine glanced over. "What have you guys been doing for the last four months?"

"Talking some. I made it out to see her twice, and she came to Chicago once."

"I didn't know that."

He smiled sadly. "It was a secret."

"Well, she'll get in wherever she applies."

"I know."

"It'd be awesome to have her in New York. You'd have to visit us more often."

He leaned back in his seat, his voice quiet. "The one thing she and I agree on is that we can't do the long distance thing again. We did three years of it and it just… not again."

Blaine remembered the summer they'd ended things. He'd been at Kurt's house when Tina arrived, eyeliner running in rivers down her cheeks, sobbing into his shirt as soon as he opened the door. They had gone into crisis mode immediately, Blaine settling her in Kurt's room while his boyfriend ascertained what they needed. Whether he should call Mercedes (he should), whether ice cream was necessary (it was), and whether he should have Finn go get more snacks (she said no, he asked anyway. Finn seemed grateful to escape). They soothed her for half an hour, curled up on Kurt's bed, and then Blaine got a text back from Mike. He'd looked to Kurt for guidance, but it was Tina who spoke.

"Go," she said, voice muffled by Kurt's sweater. "You can go."

He'd gotten both sides of the story that day, and they were both pretty much the same. It was too hard, they both knew it, and they'd just known they couldn't do it anymore. Mike had still had another year in Chicago, and had been offered a part time job that could possibly, after graduation, turn into a position that paid well enough to make a small dent in his student loans, and Tina had two more years in Boston before whatever she decided to do next. And they couldn't wait that long. It was too much, and they mostly didn't want to break whatever chance they had at friendship by forcing it any longer.

Seeing Tina curled up in Kurt's bed, and Mike sitting on a bench in the park, looking lost, Blaine had never in his life felt so guilty and so grateful for his and Kurt's planning, and their incredible luck.

"So…" he finally prompted.

"We're going to talk," Mike said. "In person. Once she's here." He shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

His tone made it clear the subject should be closed, so Blaine pulled into a parking spot. "Maybe I'm just flattering myself here, but it feels like you talk a lot more when we hang out like this."

Mike flicked his eyes over to the driver's seat before pulling his fedora over his eyes with a shy smile. "Some things are worth talking about."

* * *

><p>"The place is right here. Don't worry, this is the last one today... even if I don't find it. We have to get back, and it's a drive."<p>

"You haven't actually ever said what you're looking for."

"I'm looking for _Kurt_."

If it had been Finn he'd have reminded him that Kurt was probably at home. Brittany would have looked confused. Mercedes would have rolled her eyes.

Mike nodded.

A salesgirl spotted them quickly and hurried over. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you today?"

It seemed like Blaine was distracted, so Mike answered for him. "My friend's looking for a ring."

The girl's face lit up. "Well, you've certainly come to the right place. An engagement ring? We have some lovely diamond solitaires - quite the hit with the ladies, I've been told-"

Blaine spoke carefully. "Thank you, but my boyfriend has very specific tastes -"

The girl changed tracks so quickly Blaine was privately surprised she didn't get whiplash.

"Oh I _see_," she said with a forced smile, winking at Mike, "_friend_. I get it."

"My boyfriend," Blaine clarified, "who_ isn't here_."

She seemed to deflate a little. "Oh."

"Do you have anything similar to this-" he pointed to one of the displays "-in white gold, maybe? A little more... subtle?"

"Of course, sir. Just on the other side, over -"

"Oh my god."

Mike started. "You okay, man?"

Blaine turned away from the display he'd passed as he went to follow the saleswoman, a smile on his face that was pure, unbridled joy.

"I've found it," he said a little breathlessly. "It's _perfect_."

* * *

><p>"What did you and Mike get up to in the big city?" Kurt asked that night, the corners of his mouth turned up into a curious smirk.<p>

Blaine shrugged deliberately. "Nothing much."

He thought it was fitting that he'd found the ring in Ohio. A metaphorical diamond in the rough, like Kurt. Perfect for him, perfect for them, and waiting in the side-pocket of his suitcase, wrapped in three pairs of clean socks, for _the moment_.

"I saw Mr. Schue today," Kurt offered as he finished his moisturizing routine.

"Oh?"

"We ran into him at the Mall after school let out. It seems New Directions demanded better costumes for Regionals, and he was scouting for ideas."

"At the _mall_?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"I know. I tried to impart some wisdom, but…" he made a gesture with his free hand that seemed to imply that he could only do so much.

Blaine set his book aside and pulled the blankets further around himself.

"Are you cold? I can grab another -"

"It's fine. It'll be cozier with you." Kurt smiled at him and turned back to the mirror. "What did your dad mean when he said to remember the rules?"

"What?"

""When he said I could stay here. He said we should remember the rules."

Kurt blushed. "Oh, yes. That."

"What rules? Am I not allowed to steal your innocence? Because I think we might have kind of rendered that one redundant a fair few years -"

"Any theft that occurred was _entirely_ mutual," Kurt pointed out, his cheeks still pink. "He just… the first times you stayed here after we were… you know…"

"Having sex?" Blaine provided helpfully.

"_Yes_. Well, it was all very awkward, and you know I never really asked him, as such, because we had that talk, about mattering and all that, again, but one morning at breakfast he sort of said…"

"Said what?"

"He muttered into his orange juice something about being safe and keeping it reasonably quiet," Kurt got the words out quickly, beet red by this point. He seemed to have run out of moisturizing to do, and his hands settled in his lap. "Stop giggling."

"I'm not," Blaine lied.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"No…I don't," Kurt eventually agreed, moving to the bed. "More fool me."

Blaine pulled off his glasses and settled into Kurt's warmth, turning off the bedside lamp. "Long day..."

"Doing nothing with Mike?"

"Mmmm. Laziness is exhausting."

Kurt leaned to kiss his hair, and Blaine hummed contentedly into his chest.

"Love your kisses," he said sleepily. "They feel like butterflies and happiness."

Kurt snorted and smiled. "You're ridiculous… but I'm glad."

"I vote we sleep in tomorrow."

"Okay." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Finn's back in Columbus for finals, and Dad and Carole will both be at work, so we'll have the place to ourselves."

"Do you remember when having an hour to ourselves, in one of our houses, felt like a miracle?"

"It kind of still does."

"We have an apartment now."

Blaine could hear Kurt's breath and the rumble of his chest as he spoke. "I know, but we don't always get as much time as we'd like. And giving Rachel a spare key was a _huge_ mistake."

"I'm glad our bedroom door locks."

"We're not always in the bedroom when…" Kurt trailed off as he located his phone and set it on the nightstand to charge.

Blaine sighed. "True. Some of my favorite memories are against those yellow walls."

"Muted buttercup," Kurt corrected disdainfully. "Pale blue would look _so_ much better."

"I really did not hear you complaining about that at the time."

"I was busy. And anyway, I was kind of partial to the kitchen counters."

He smiled fondly. "Ah, good times."

"We should do that again."

Blaine yawned. "So bendy," he mused sleepily. "So very bendy."

"Mmmhm." Kurt pulled some of the blanket over, then settled down. "Maybe I'll talk to Trish again, see if I can get her to change her mind about us painting."

Blaine's measured breathing was his response, and Kurt settled happily in, hoping that there could be more nights like this - as many as possible.

He'd take every one he could get.

* * *

><p>As the week passed most of the people who'd been away at school returned. Tina appeared, eyes sparkling (Kurt and Blaine exchanged a pointed look). Rachel arrived for the first day of Hanukkah and immediately called to inform them that she had just that day secured a meeting with an agent for early January, and they should be prepared to face difficult times in their friendship, as her imminent rise to stardom would doubtless cause some tension. Finn returned properly for the holidays, talking about a girl in his Sociology class who had totally been flirting with him, probably. Life was filled with coffee dates and catch-up sessions, where everyone remembered just how little there actually was to do in Lima after 8pm, ending up at the same haunts.<p>

Christmas came, and Blaine spent the day with his boyfriend's family, waking up to a bright eyed Kurt ,who practically dragged him out of bed to open their presents. Carole was already awake, supervising a dead-looking Finn as he made coffee. Kurt, who was marshaling breakfast supplies, was the only one who could be considered dressed, in his artfully distressed t-shirt and yoga pants. Everyone else was still in pajamas to some degree, and Burt and Carole were still wearing warm-looking robes. Blaine envied them the fluffiness as his toes hit the cold tile.

"You know," Carole was saying conversationally, "I would have thought that as you got older you boys would be more inclined to trade sleep for early present opening."

Finn looked up from the mug he'd been staring at with hope it would magically fill with caffeine. "Mom, it's Christmas," he pointed out emphatically. "_Christmas._"

Carole noticed Blaine in the doorway. "Merry Christmas," she smiled. "Kurt, did you drag him down here too?"

"I gave him ten extra minutes," Kurt defended. "I made you toa - Finn Hudson, touch that toast and there will be no cookies for the rest of the holidays. _None_."

Finn withdrew his hand from the plate and muttered something about brothers being way less cool than he'd thought. Kurt ignored him and poured himself a cup of coffee, bringing it to the kitchen table and setting it down, then approaching his boyfriend, who was still standing in the doorway.

"You okay?" He reached for his hand and tugged him towards the food. "I made you tea, because we had the one you like, but there's also coffee... presuming Finn hasn't managed to set it on fire or something."

Blaine blinked, ignoring Finn's offended noise, and when he spoke his voice was a little hoarse. "Yeah. Yeah, tea's good. Thanks." He pulled Kurt's hand up to kiss his wrist briefly. "Merry Christmas," he said quietly. Kurt smiled and murmured into his hair as he left a quick kiss on the crown of his head. "Merry Christmas," he added slightly louder, addressing Finn and Carole. Burt was visible in the next room moving stacks of papers, obviously trying to clear the dining room table for later.

Kurt's smile was infectious. "Eat, so we can open presents. Come on."

Blaine had always loved Christmas morning as a child - especially when his cousins came to stay, and they got to rip into the wrapping paper before their parents were even fully awake, playing in the beautiful wreckage as the adults nursed hot drinks. In his teen years, once his extended family had moved and left with just his parents and the weight of his sexuality, of what they didn't understand, the holidays had become more about dinner parties and meals spent in quiet. Any celebration happened at Dalton, once he'd transferred, and before that, before things got bad at his old school, maybe a quiet gift exchange with a couple of people. He'd missed the _holidays_, and the first year he'd visited Kurt's house near Christmas, the year they met, when he went over to study one weekend, it had felt like this was what holidays were supposed to be. Good natured bickering, boardgames, guilt trips and eye rolls, quarrels based in pure familial exasperation. He had been more excited to be a part of that - a big part, not just a visitor - than he'd let on. Or so he thought.

He pulled one of the pieces of toast apart and held half out to Kurt, who took a bite. "You're going to love your present," Kurt said, leaning his chin on one hand. "Well, the big one. I was afraid it wouldn't show up on time, but it did, and I can't wait for you to see it. You have to open that one first."

Burt came in and walked straight over to the coffee pot, scowling as Kurt took his newly poured cup and handed him another from the counter.

"Decaf, Dad. Just because it's Christmas -"

"Listen, kid, the doctor said that every so often -"

"Yes, but now I've already made it, and there's no sense in having extra caffeine when there's an alternative sitting right-"

Burt looked pointedly at Blaine as Carole patted Kurt on the shoulder emphatically. "You'd think that a guy could drink a cup of coffee in his own kitchen-"

"You can drink as many cups as you like, darling." Carole smiled sweetly. "Just decaffeinated ones."

Burt looked like he was going to respond, but Kurt had noticed Blaine's empty plate and had already swooped to rinse it. "Presents, everyone! Finn's already gone in. Come on!"

A few minutes later everyone had allowed themselves to be dragged through to sit near the Christmas tree, and Blaine, settled on the sofa with Kurt on the floor, leaning against his legs, was completely awake and trying to contain his excitement.

Finn didn't seem to have that problem. "Dude, look at that box! It's, like, HUGE! Is that for me? Can I open it, even if it isn't?"

Kurt was handing a box to Carole, their present to her, who opened it to find a nice scarf (which Blaine happened to know Kurt had had tfought tooth and nail for in his favorite vintage store) as well as a gift certificate for a half-day at a spa in Westerville.

She pulled them both into a hug that their positions made slightly awkward. "Oh, boys, thank you. It's beautiful, and god knows I'll need a day to relax after the holidays are over."

The certificate had been Blaine's idea, and he'd talked Kurt into treating himself for a day before they went back to New York, as well. He told Carole as much (well, that Kurt should join her), and she beamed. They were soon making plans for a day before New Years, weighing the pros and cons of mud wraps, pedicures, and some genius masseuse named Manny. (Blaine made a face at the way Kurt said his name, and realized that Burt was definitely frowning in the exact same way from his armchair).

Carole giggled, which prompted Kurt to pet Blaine's leg comfortingly and tell him that hot Portuguese guys with great hands weren't his type anyway.

Before Blaine could respond -

"Dude, if you aren't going to open your gifts then I will."

Finn was already wearing his new jersey, and playing with the buttons on the watch that Kurt had found for him. His other presents were lying in a sea of ripped wrapping paper. He was probably kidding about the present, Blaine figured. Probably.

Kurt looked like his fingers were itching to tear into his stack, but he passed Blaine his first. "Open mine first." He paused. "Actually, no, last." Again. "Oh god, what if you think -? Actually, give it back."

Blaine held it up. "No chance." He felt the sides of the flat package, which was quite thin - large and almost square. "Hmm. I'm guessing it's... _not_ a pony."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

He peeled the paper back from the corner slowly, ignoring Finn's complaints, to reveal -

"You got him a brochure? Dude, even I did better than -"

"Finn, honey, be quiet."

"Sorry, Mom."

Kurt looked at his boyfriend anxiously. "I wasn't sure. I know we've talked about -"

Blaine looked up at him, then down at the tickets, then back. "Fiji? We are seriously going to Fiji?"

"Well… I booked us for right after New Years, for a week. It'd mean going straight back home after, because you start class, so we'd be cutting our time here short, and it's the rainy season -"

"Dude," Finn offered, "Ohio's here anytime. This is the Caribbean-"

"Fiji isn't even near - you know what, _not_ the point." Kurt refocused on feeling out Blaine's reaction. "I did some research, that's supposed to be a pretty nice place to stay, but I wanted to keep everything in our… price range, so it's not peak travel time, or a luxury resort or anything close-"

Blaine cut him off with a swift kiss, letting the brochure and the enclosed tickets fall on the cushion next to him. A lot of things were suddenly making sense - the way Kurt had been less inclined to suggest going out for dinner in recent months, the way he'd casually dismissed that pair of boots that had finally gone on sale in his size. He'd been saving for this, saving so that they could do this together, something they'd been talking about for _years_, and he wished he had the ring he'd bought with him because he felt like he had quite possibly never loved Kurt Hummel more than at this moment, leaning down to kiss him in front of his family, wearing his pajamas and a pair of Kurt's slippers.

It didn't seem to occur to either of them to stop until Burt cleared his throat, at which point they reluctantly extracted themselves from each others' grasp and shifted back to their places.

"I think he liked it," Finn helpfully told Kurt, who just smiled and handed Carole her gift from Finn.

As she opened and gushed over it Blaine leaned to whisper in his ear. "I cannot wait to go away with you, and explore with you, and most of all I can't wait to get you in our hotel room and show you how much I love you over and over again."

"Mmmph," said Kurt, tilting his head, and elbowing him a little at the proximity to his family. "You don't say."

"Yeah. And tonight, I'm gonna give you a preview."

Kurt leaned in so that Blaine's lips touched his ear. "I like the sound of that." Blaine felt him smile. "Merry Christmas."

He pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You too."

"You gonna open any of your presents, kiddo? Mine and Carole's is under Finn's wreckage."

He looked up. "In a second, Dad. I'm going to open Blaine's first. I made him do mine, it's only fair."

Blaine squirmed a little. He'd gotten Kurt a few things, and he'd put thought into all of them, but to his mind none of them matched the thoughtfulness Kurt's gift to him. And while he knew that wasn't the point, that Kurt would love him, and love what he'd gotten, simply because he knew the intent behind it, it was frustrating. Mostly because he _had_ something he really wanted to give him, had actually wanted to for longer than he'd been aware of it, but he didn't think that this was it, now. It would be fine, certainly, and proposing in front of the family would be an adorable story, but it felt… not personal enough. He felt like it should be just them, and it should be separate from any ritual gift giving. Because as far as he was concerned the ring wasn't the gift.

Kurt saying yes would be.


	2. Chapter 2

Christmas lunch was a total success. Finn nearly dropped the potatoes twice, but otherwise it was everything festive. Everyone soon pronounced themselves stuffed, and while Finn went to take a nap Kurt and Blaine, who had offered to do the dishes, cleaned up and returned to the couch to watch a movie. Burt and Carole had been invited next door to have a drink with the neighbors, and so they made the most of the alone time - so much so that within a few minutes the cheery Christmas comedy had been forgotten and Blaine was pressed back into the pillows, Kurt making remarkable progress towards his goal of erasing Blaine's vocabulary.

"Mmmm. Kurt… Mmmm," he said intelligently as his boyfriend's lips travelled up his neck. "Good… that's… good."

Kurt just hummed and moved to his ear.

"Mmm… Kurt. Hey, lips. Lips… kiss… Mmmfff-"

"So, I'm guessing you kids don't want to play monopoly."

Pure instinct and muscle memory sprung them back at the sound of Carole's voice. She stood in the doorway, her husband behind her... pointedly looking at the television.

Kurt fixed his hair, but didn't move from Blaine's lap. "We'll be there in a minute."

As soon as they were alone again Blaine groaned. "Why do I feel like I'm in high school again?"

"I don't know. That's happened _several_ times since you graduated from high school."

"That doesn't mean I can't remember having conversations with your dad where I was very delicately crossing my legs."

Kurt smirked and deliberately ground his hips forward once. "What, because of something like _that_?" Blaine groaned again and he hopped off. "But you're right. Monopoly now." He winked. "But later you're mine, Anderson."

His smile was rueful as he took Kurt's hand and breathed deeply. "Some things never change."

* * *

><p>No one had ever figured out why Finn was so good at monopoly. Kurt had a theory that it had something to do with playing off people's perception, or else some kind of witchcraft, but whatever the reason the marathon game ended around four hours later, when Finn bankrupted Blaine and achieved total world domination (his words). Carole made hot chocolate, and soon after she and Burt excused themselves to turn in for the night, Carole kissing each of them on the forehead as she left. Blaine wasn't sure what meant more - being included so naturally, or the look on Kurt's face as he was.<p>

About an hour later Finn started yawning, and they found themselves alone again.

"We could watch another movie," Kurt suggested half-heartedly.

They looked at each other briefly, and less than fifteen seconds later they were on their way up the stairs. Within a minute Kurt's bedroom door was locked, and within three they were naked and Kurt was scrambling to open the drawer of the bedside table. In five they were both stifling moans into pillows and skin, and thirty minutes later they were lying curled up in a sweaty sated heap on top of the covers, the only sound in the room the clock ticking and their breathing gradually evening itself out. Kurt regained the use of his limbs first and managed to clean them off and pull the covers up, declaring that this was definitely in contention for the best Christmas ever.

They whispered and giggled to each other as they fell asleep.

* * *

><p>They were leaving for Fiji on the third, so they spend the week between Christmas and New Years catching up with as many people as possible. Rachel and her dads invited them over for dinner, and Blaine found himself wistfully watching the three of them interacting as a family. It had always thrilled him to see - almost like a glimpse of something he and Kurt might have someday (although hopefully with a child who was <em>slightly<em> less high maintenance), and with the ring ever present in its sock vault he felt more and more the impatience to get on with this - on with everything. For he and Kurt to start that next chapter of their life together. He was graduating and Kurt was finishing this internship - they were both moving into the next phase, whatever that was, and he wanted them to do it together.

He wanted to do it as Kurt's husband.

It was a certainty that only grew with every passing hour - when they fell asleep together on the couch, when they argued in the grocery store, when he came back from coffee with someone to find Kurt dying to tell him something about his day. This was all stuff they'd had before - they'd lived together for years, after all - but it shocked him a little how much he wanted it all to be official. Legal.

Five o'clock on New Years eve found them getting ready for the impromptu party they (officially Kurt and Finn, but obviously Blaine too) had decided to throw - primarily, truth be told, out of boredom. Carole's birthday present from her husband several months earlier had been two mini-getaways, and the first of them had been booked over New Years. Blaine strongly suspected Kurt's involvement. Kurt, of course, denied everything.

But anyway, the party was going to be simple, to Kurt's minor distress. A few friends were coming over to dance and drink in the New Year, and although they weren't due to arrive until eight Kurt had insisted on co-ordinating their wardrobes a few hours prior.

"I really, really love that shirt on you. Pair it with the black jeans, they do wonders for your thighs."

Blaine snorted as he pulled the pants off a hanger. "Eye candy. I see how it is."

"I'm a host," Kurt said imperiously, waving a hand. "There's no reason I shouldn't be able to look at pretty things while I work. Maroon shirt with this vest? Or black? If I do the black I need a brooch, and that green scarf."

"You left the green scarf," Blaine reminded him. "You said it was last season."

"Well, that was before I needed it for this outfit." Kurt's voice was slightly panicked and Blaine recognized the signs.

"Don't freak out." He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist. "Wear the** p**urple shirt with the black vest, and use the scarf Mercedes gave you last year for your birthday."

Kurt blinked. "Okay. That's… that's a good idea."

"Don't sound so shocked." He made to move away, but Kurt swiveled to face him and tightened his grip slightly, apropos of nothing.

"I love you," he said clearly. "I love you, and I feel like I don't say it often enough, but I do, and I would go crazy without you, and not just because of scarves."

"Love you too." Blaine caught the glint in his eye. "And if you mess up my hair I don't want to hear anything at the party tonight about how much product I use, because - okay, I don't really care, kiss me please."

Finn knocked on the door ten minutes later to ask Kurt where he'd hidden the chips, and was told in no uncertain terms to come back in twenty minutes ("make that… thirty. And I didn't hide them, you just ate them. Go… ah… go get more").

* * *

><p>"So, are you ready for the new year?" Kurt's voice was light and teasing. "I feel like this is gonna be a big one."<p>

"Party?"

"_Year_, Blaine."

They'd both showered again before they set up for the party, and were in the process of dressing. Blaine was still wearing sweats, rummaging to find a belt, while Kurt had progressed to his (dark green) pants and an undershirt. He was using his dressing table mirror to fix his hair.

"What do you think Mike and Tina are going to do?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know. Is it bad that the selfish part of me still wants her in New York?"

"No. Well, maybe a little, but I think it's what she wants too, or at least she did at one point."

Kurt turned to him with the air of someone finally voicing something that had been bothering them. "At what point is it socially acceptable to start figuring someone else into your life?"

Blaine looked up from his suitcase. "Huh?"

"I mean, it was a little different for us, because we both wanted New York, but… I get that choosing colleges based on a _weeklong_ high school relationship wouldn't be smart, because you have to do these things for _you_, but…"

Blaine waited him out.

"…I don't know the answer, this is a genuine question. At what point do people suddenly decide it's okay? Because… I'll be honest, back then I probably wouldn't have given up New York for you, if you'd had your heart set on somewhere else, but it'd still have been a question I asked myself."

"I don't know," Blaine shrugged. "When are you mature enough to supposedly be able to make that choice? I always figured you in. Since I met you."

"The more I think about it, the less I think we're the exception, as such, and more the people who just didn't follow the rule when it was told to us."

"Well," Blaine said seriously, tie in hand, "we've always been rebels. Tie with the shirt?"

"Not _that _one."

"I think that part of the point," he offered, slipping the shirt over his shoulders, "is that I never would have asked you to do that."

"It doesn't matter," Kurt argued. "It still would have been a factor." He paused. "Do you think we would have done what Mike and Tina tried? With years of colleges across the country?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "I know I would have wanted to try."

"Me too." He lifted his chin. "We would have made it work."

It wasn't an indictment of Mike and Tina's efforts, it was a simple statement of fact and of faith.

"I know."

By now Blaine was sitting cross legged next to his suitcase, a few feet from the dressing table. He finally found the belt he'd been looking for, tucked into one of the pockets, and his hand brushed over the pair of socks tucked in with it.

His hand tightened around the box.

A moment later:

"Kurt?"

"Mmhm?"

"Kurt."

"Yes?"

"Kurt, will you marry me?"

He dropped his comb and his eyes hit the mirror searchingly before finding him. "What?"

"I'd like you to marry me." He was on his knees next to him, taking in Kurt's wide-eyed expression with a mixture of anxiousness and hope. "Please."

He saw the moment Kurt's eyes left his face and travelled down to the box in his hand.

"Oh my god."

"I know we said we were going to wait, and we have, and I've wanted to do this for weeks, I think. I know - after graduation, but the thing is… graduation is less than six months away, and then you'll be done with your internship in June, and we'll be starting this new… thing, leaf, or whatever, and I don't know about you…but I want to do it as your husband. So we can get married quickly in the summer, or we can wait and do it later, but I want… I want to go into this last stretch knowing that that's waiting for us. And I… I just really can't remember a time when I didn't want to be your husband, didn't love you like this...so much that it… sometimes it feels like the force of it should frighten me, but it doesn't. Because it's scary, but… it's you, and I trust you, so it's okay."

Kurt blinked away the tears in his eyes and moved off the stool to join Blaine on his knees.

"Blaine," he said carefully, breathily. "You are my best friend in the whole world, and you don't have to sell me on marrying you, okay, because I've wanted it for -" he took a deep breath. "I was going to do this properly, after graduation… there were going to be _plans_, Blaine -"

He winced slightly with his cheek in Kurt's hand. "Oh my god. I didn't - if you really think it isn't the right time, if you don't think - then we can just -"

"No," Kurt said quickly. "No. It wasn't a bad oh my god, it's just that this is - this is a big moment, not that I didn't know I wanted to - that one day we would - it's just…" he stroked Blaine's cheek lovingly. "Yes."

Blaine started and met his eye. "Yes?"

His giggle was short, but filled with joy. "Would you like me to repeat it? Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Yes, I will marry you. Or would you like me to ask you back?" He cleared his throat, shifting on his knees a little and taking the hand that wasn't holding the ring. "Blaine Anderson, I love you, and I want to be married to you so much that I don't care that these pants are new and probably getting carpet fluff and lint all over them. Please, marry me?"

In answer Blaine put his hands on either side of his boyfriend's - _fiancé's _- face and pulled him into a kiss. Their first _engaged_ kiss. "Yes," he muttered into his lips. "God, yes…"

When they finally pulled apart and Blaine slipped the ring - a thin white gold band, a small emerald and sapphire linked by a groove, a line etched in the metal - onto Kurt's finger they just stared at it for a moment.

"We should get you one," Kurt said slightly hoarsely, his voice uneven. "I mean - only if you want to, but… if you do then I want us to."

"… I want to."

He smiled back. "Good. Oh my _god_, _Blaine_…"

They had both shifted back on their knees but they were still gripping each other's hands, like the contact might just be what made the whole thing real.

Blaine looked a little dazed. "We're engaged. We are going to get married."

Kurt pulled him in for a quick kiss. "I wish I had the time to do all the things I want to do right now."

"We could be late to the party?"

"We are _throwing_ the party."

There was a pause. "I wanted to start the New Year as your fiancé."

Kurt yanked him in again. "Oh my god, you need to stop being so good for me, because I haven't finished my hair yet."

This kiss was a little more fierce, with Kurt half heartedly trying to mutter something that just turned into a moan as Blaine's tongue licked its way into his mouth. As Blaine's lips - _Blaine fiancé Blaine Blaine Blaine Blaine_ - moved to his jaw he made a noise of resignation.

"If Rachel Berry hijacks the party before we get there, or Finn burns something down, I'm going to blame you."

"Just another five minutes," Blaine wheedled, pulling him up and towards the bed.

"Well," Kurt said magnanimously, divesting Blaine of his t-shirt and attaching his lips to his fiancé's collar bone, the fingers of his left hand joining Blaine's in rubbing the circle of metal around his finger. "I suppose five minutes wouldn't hurt."

* * *

><p>Twelve minutes later they appeared downstairs, inwardly (and in Kurt's case, outwardly) cursing Rachel Berry to the pits of hell, and deeply, deeply wishing they'd had time to finish what they'd started. The demon herself swooped in immediately, generously offering them a drink (<em>their<em> drinks) and telling them that she'd convinced everyone to let them come down in their own time after she went up to knock primly (hers was obviously some new definition of _prim_ that Blaine had been previously unaware of) on the door because "as the daughter of a loving homosexual union, [she was] fully aware that alone time to talk and express feelings through mediums like song in privacy is not always in ample supply."

"Only a couple of people have arrived, Rachel," Blaine pointed out, as Kurt seemed to be busy pointedly running his left hand through his hair.

They'd decided to keep the party small, a little get-together for those friends of theirs that they were still close with, and who had made their way back to town. Rachel, upon finding out about the plan, had treated them to a monologue about how she and Finn were in a good place, had accepted each other's dreams and potential stardom, and so, though it might be a little awkward, she wouldn't dare to disappoint them by missing her dear friends' yuletide celebration. Kurt had rolled his eyes so hard as he took her arm that Blaine hadn't been able to hide his smirk. Their friendship had always been hilarious to him.

In the living room Mercedes was texting from her position stretched out on the couch, a drink already in hand, and Finn was bringing bottles out of the kitchen.

"I'm going to go help with drinks," Blaine said. The doorbell rang. "And I guess you've gotta go play host."

"My work is never done," he replied airily, floating off with Rachel in tow - she seemed to be formulating a list of songs she planned to sing, and he heard her wonder aloud whether _Rain On My Parade_ should wait until after _Halo_. God save them.

They'd tried to call Burt and Carole as they pieced their outfits back together upstairs, to tell them the news, but they'd known that both of them were going to be turning their cellphones off. It might be better news to tell in person, anyway. Blaine left a voicemail for his mother, too, saying he had something to share, and they'd both decided to hold off on actually telling people tonight and see if anyone noticed the new addition to Kurt's ensemble.

Tina was with him when he came back, weighed down with cookies and a cake her mother had sent over. "Blaine!" she called when she spotted him. "Come help me. Your divo of a boyfriend didn't even offer to take these off my hands."

"I just put moisturizer on," Kurt objected, and Blaine wondered how everyone had missed the glowing excitement making him a little more giddy than usual. "It needs to soak in. Those boots are amazing, by the way, and I hope you bought at least three pairs."

Tina rolled her eyes and handed Blaine a large plate of oatmeal-raisin. "Oh, I miss you."

"We saw each other yesterday."

"I know you missed me too. You need to make it to Boston more often."

"Only if you stop with this "I-don't-have-time-to-come-to-the-city-Kurt-can't-we-meet-halfway?" One should _make_ time for New York, Tina."

"Yeah, yeah. Some of us have class, you know. We can't all have star internships. Which reminds me, I didn't ask you yet, are you going to be here for the summer? I'm thinking that a whole bunch of us should do something - Blaine, can I get one of those? - something for us to celebrate graduation, you know?" Her smile faltered slightly. "Before we all head off again."

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a look as Blaine handed her a drink.

"I don't know what we're doing for the summer yet," Kurt said with a small smile, bringing his hand up to his own cheek and splaying his fingers in a forced, awkward gesture than nearly made Blaine choke on his rum and coke . "We have some planning to do."

Tina had been distracted, however, by the sight of Mike entering the room with Puck, each of them carrying several bottles of liquor.

"See something you like?" Kurt asked pointedly. Tina's head snapped around. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm thinking of trying the pineapple rum, myself."

After a long moment she laughed. "You are _such_ a bitch…" She paused. "I'm still waiting for my hug."

Kurt reached forward to squeeze her, adding a slightly louder "you know, I'm using a new moisturizer for my hands, it smells great - here, smell my hand -"

Blaine snorted into his drink at the transparency, a little touched that Kurt seemed to be having so much trouble containing his excitement and adhering to his own plan.

"Hummel! And Anderson! What's happening?" Puck had come over to say hi, already well into his bottle of beer. Blaine found himself drawn into some kind of ritual handshake, which might have gone better if he'd ever seen it before. "How're my favorite gay dudes doin'?"

Kurt blinked at him. "Homosexual as ever, Puckerman. Yourself?"

"'m good, good. Working it, you know. I brought a few bottles, couple of things to spice it up."

Blaine could practically see the retort fighting to jump off Kurt's tongue. "It's good to see you," he said quickly. "I think Finn wanted your help setting up the microphones."

"Oh, 'kay, later dudes." he nodded at a distracted Tina. "Dudette."

"Be nice," Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear. "He likes us, and I know he's kind of…"

Kurt waved his hand. "Oh, Puck's Puck. Whatever." He leaned back into his boyfriend's chest, making it necessary for Blaine to wrap his arms around his waist. "I'm just mad no one has noticed yet."

"With the subtlety that you're employing?"

"Oh, shut up." Kurt took advantage of the fact that Tina was paying less attention to her conversation with Mercedes and more to exchanging looks with Mike from across the room. He lifted his hand into the light and studied the ring for a moment. "Let me enjoy this. You only get engaged once."

"There are many people for whom that is not strictly true," Blaine pointed out.

Kurt elbowed him in the ribs with a scowl. "Less mood killing, more cute."

He brought his own hand up to wind their fingers together, enjoying the smoothness of Kurt's skin broken by the smoothness of the metal. "Only once," he agreed.

"WHO'S READY TO ROCK?"

The opening bars to a David Bowie song mingled with Rachel's shrill insistence that she should go first because -_put on your red shoes and dance the blues_ - really made more sense and if they would just - _to the song they're playing on the radio_ - much less jarring from a musical point of view, and as a graduate of the highly prestigious - _if you say run, I'll run with you_ - bow to the person with superior knowledge, so that it would be fun for everyone - _because my love for you, would break my heart in two -_

Blaine tuned them out and let Kurt pull him (and their drinks) over to watch, basking in the feeling of the strip of metal against his skin. He could get used to that.

He couldn't wait until he did.

* * *

><p>It was actually pretty hilarious when it finally did happen. Rachel was in the middle of a deeply emotional performance of<em> Must Have Been Love<em>, and even Blaine had been forced to admit that he wished it was over now. Kurt snickered into his hand and his finger caught the light.

"_Outside_... _I turn to water like a teardrop in your pa_ - aaaaaaah!"

Everyone started as Rachel screamed and pointed at Kurt, not least Kurt himself.

"What?" Finn asked. "What is it? Is it a bug?"

"Bug?" Kurt pulled away from Blaine and began pawing at his shirt. "Oh, god, Get it off, off, don't squish - this cost ninet - never mind, _get it off_. Blaine!"

"Your hand!" Rachel shrieked. Kurt relaxed immediately.

"Oh," he smiled smugly, leaning back into Blaine and stretching out his fingers. "That."

"Is that a ring?" Tina asked, her eyes huge.

Finn was craning to look. "Dude, that's your left hand," he said.

"How long?" Tina demanded.

"Way to man up, Anderson!" Puck patted him on the back and he decided it _just wasn't worth arguing that _just then.

"Kurt, you'd better be about to tell us this story, because I swear -"

"Kurt, Blaine, as the daughter of a loving homosexual union, and one of your closest friends, I am going to put aside my feelings about you two not telling me and generously offer my services-"

Mike moved past him to get a drink and nudged the back of the couch. "Congrats, man."

Blaine grinned. "Thanks." He was brought back to the chaos by his fiancé's melodious voice.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, Ti - if you three do not shut your tipsy mouths and let me tell my abridged, adorable story then I swear to god I will dress you_ all _in the ugliest shade of orange I can find."

"No you wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't. But I would uninvite you."

"I really think you -"

"_Rachel_."

"But -"

"Orange and _lime green_, Rachel... What am I saying? These things mean nothing to you. You own cat sweaters."

"Hey, Blaine? Kurt?"

"Yes, Finn?"

"I feel like we should, you know, toast. To you guys. Being engaged."

"… thank you. That's really… thanks."

"Everyone get a drink."

"Tina, that's not yours."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't."

Finn cleared his throat. "So, I um… I'll do it. I guess… Kurt and I haven't always been close, and I didn't used to… uh… I didn't get to know him because I didn't see all the cool things about him back then. But I think… I think that from the first moment they, from what I've heard and seen, you know, since… I think Blaine saw - sees - how awesome Kurt was -is - right from the time they met. And I guess Kurt sees it in Blaine too. So… here's to them, being awesome together."

Tina sniffed drunkenly. "That was_ beautiful, _Finn." Her gaze wandered around the room to find Mike, who was sitting next to her, and had been pretty much the whole time. "Love is _beautiful_."

Rachel, who had downed another shot, stood from her spot on the floor. "I'd like to toast their love too - _in song_!"

"Oh, god." Kurt buried his face in Blaine's shoulder.

"Hey, do Burt and Mom know yet?" Finn had appeared with the rum and was refilling several people's cups. Blaine shook his head in answer as Kurt explained, and disentangled himself to mix the liquor with coke from the bottle on the coffee table.

"No, Mercedes, it's MY TURN!"

Kurt reattached himself to Blaine's side as soon as he was within reach. "Can I have a drink? When can we escape?"

"It's ten-thirty. Embrace the madness for a while," Blaine suggested, handing him his drink.

Kurt gave him a wry smile. "Did that a _long_ time ago." He clicked their cups together. "To us."

Blaine grinned back as Mercedes and Tina started _Crazy In Love_. "Cheers."

The alcohol tasted fine, but it tasted better a moment later with Kurt's lips pressed quickly to his.

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening proceeded fairly festively, with only minor sulking on the part of a slightly drunk Kurt when an equally intoxicated Blaine got pulled into a reprise performance of <em>Don't You Want Me<em>. It had been necessary for Blaine to detach himself from Kurt's lips to do so, which was really _most_ of the reason why Kurt was so irritated - and had refused to respond to the blatant way Blaine's sultry performance was being directed at him, eyes raking over his body suggestively. When he bounded back after the song was over, to where Kurt was valiantly trying to pretend that he was both sober and had not been staring at Blaine's ass for the last five minutes, Kurt was still sulking.

"Kurt… Kurt, I missed you… Kurt… we're getting maaarried! Isn't that so, so awesome?…Kurt! Kurt…."

Blaine received only a sniff in response as his fiancé turned away.

"Kurt? Kurt, I'm over here. Kurt? Are you mad at me? Don't be mad at me, I love you, and it's gonna be next year in a few minutes, and… Kuuuurt. Kurt, sing with me. We need to sing a _song_."

"You already did," he said accusingly, which admittedly did not make a huge amount of sense. And he hadn't really had enough to drink to get to the over-dramatic stage of inebriation - he was just grousing.

"But I was singing_ to_ you, Kurt, and I missed you, and now I want to sing _with_ you. Rachel says we should express our love through _music_, Kurt. We _make music_."

Blaine began massaging his shoulders gently, peppering the back of his neck with kisses, and Kurt felt his resolve melting.

"What do you want to sing?"

Blaine made a noise that Kurt was pretty sure was not actually words. "Mmmm… missed your skin, and your lips -"

"I was _right_ here. You're the one who -"

"Can't wait to get you alone, so we can cel-'brate."

Kurt took deep breaths and tried to clear his head, his neck stretching of its own accord to follow Blaine's lips. "Yes, well."

Thankfully he was saved by Tina, who was watching New Years countdowns on the TV and shrieked that they were down to the two minute mark. With difficulty (and reluctance) Blaine disentangled himself from Kurt and took the glass of champagne that Mike handed him. He stared at the bubbles for a few seconds as everyone gathered in front of the TV.

"Did you make any New Years resolutions?"

He looked up to see that Mike was asking Kurt, who gave him a sidelong glance.

"I'm going to get what I want this year," he said with certainty, gesturing out with his plastic flute. "I'm going to do the things I've wanted to do. And, obviously, continue to be fabulous."

Mike nodded. "Cool. That's cool."

Blaine leaned over and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, the alcohol making everything buzz just a little more than usual. "I made one too."

Kurt tilted his head to listen.

"Promised that I'd ask you to marry me."

Kurt grinned and brought his left hand up to his shoulder. "You're ahead of schedule, Blaine Warbler."

"You haven't called me that in aaages."

"You haven't done anything particularly Warbler-ish in a while." Blaine always wondered how Kurt managed to make a very slight slur to his words sound so erotic.

Mostly he spent a lot of time thinking that everything Kurt did was erotic.

Kurt was very sexy, with his face, and his arms, and his legs, and his face, and his lips, and his face...

"Kiss," he eventually blurted out as Tina, Puck, and Finn started a very loud countdown from thirty seconds, and Kurt grinned even wider and leant in for what started as a rather chaste peck but rapidly turned in to something rather more celebratory.

They were still kissing when everyone cheered. Tina grabbed Mike, Mercedes deftly dodged Puck's tongue to kiss him on the cheek, and Rachel and Finn stared at each other until Finn leaned in slowly – sort of like a dazed giraffe - and pecked her on the lips.

Blaine and Kurt were still wrapped around each other, instinct the only thing stopping their champagne flutes from spilling or tumbling to the ground, free hands wrapped in each others' hair, sliding down shoulders, down the curve of the back, and -

"Uh, dudes, happy New Year, and all, but we're standing _right here_."

They both deftly ignored Puck, who soon got distracted, Kurt tightening his grip on Blaine's ass a little, but they eventually pulled their faces apart. Blaine raised his champagne, their chests still pressed together, feeling a little less and a little more drunk at the same time.

"Happy New Year, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt clinked their glasses and pressed their lips together again, just briefly. "Happy New Year, Blaine Warbler Anderson."

"I guess it's going to be Blaine Warbler-Hummel soon." Blaine cocked his head and looked a little confused. "Hummel-Warbler? Hum-bler?"

Kurt just giggled slightly tipsily and rolled his eyes. "You know, they say that the thing you're doing at midnight is what you spend the whole year doing."

"That is definitely not a real thing." Kurt raised an eyebrow at him and he thought about it a little. "But if it _is,_ we _definitely_ should have skipped the party."

"If we'd done that, aside from being ride -"

"Ride?"

"What?"

"You said 'ride'."

"I did not. I said rude, Blaine. _Rude_." He sniffed dismissively.

Something between them shifted, and Blaine glanced around to see that everyone else had migrated away from the television. He walked Kurt backwards until he hit the wall next to the entranceway, and put his lips right next to his ear, focusing on the smell of sweat, cologne, alcohol and whatever else it was that smelled like _Kurt,_ and was making him a little crazy. "Want me to ride you?" he murmured, making an effort to keep his words clear and precise. "Is that what you're thinking about? Me over you, around you, so hot, god, the way you look at me…"

Kurt hummed, making a significant effort to appear unruffled. "Maybe, maybe not."

Blaine took half a step back and appraised him with a wicked grin. "Or was it the other way around this time?"

Kurt sucked in a breath and his grip on Blaine's shirt tightened tellingly.

"Fuck." Blaine leaned back in, letting his hands rest on Kurt's waist. "You know I love that. I love you on - mmmfff - okay, okay. We really need to just… not be here right now, is what needs to - neck - ah, neck… okay. This party is officially not as important as us being naked. Can we just -"

"Kurt! You'd best get yourself and the hubby-to-be over here and help us bust out some Gaga!"

Kurt's fingers tightened where they'd wrapped themselves in Blaine's hair, but he did lift his head and blink for a few seconds. "Party. We're at a party," he remembered, seeming a little sad. "No sex at a _party_, Blaine. That's _tacky_."

"I didn't say _at_ the party…" But Kurt was already making his way over to where Mercedes and Tina (and incongruously, a very intoxicated Puck) were trying to recreate the choreography to Born This Way. Mike had evidently given up, and was lying on the couch staring off into the distance with a dreamy expression.

Blaine sighed, but had to smile when Kurt started making dinosaur claws, insisting that they had been the_ most important part_. And a moment later, when he giggled and turned to crook his finger, in what was clearly meant to be a sexy move (and was, a little, because _Kurt_) but was just more adorable than anything else…

Blaine went to join them, willing to wait for the alone time.

Although sooner would be better than later. And now would be better than sooner.

* * *

><p>When they finally fell into bed it was just after 2:30am. Finn had been assigned the remainder of living room clean up, but that was being left 'til morning anyway. That was probably just as well, as Finn had eventually fallen asleep on the couch. Kurt assumed he'd drag himself up to his room once everyone left. Puck and Mercedes were originally going to crash downstairs, but Puck, the worse for shots, had tearfully told them that he wanted to be home so he could tell his momma he loved her when he woke up. Mike and Tina had walked him home on their way out. Mercedes' boyfriend, who was working part-time as a bartender and had had to work, got off early and stopped by, eventually taking her home too. Rachel had still been there when Kurt and Blaine finally went upstairs, curled up with a cushion in the biggest armchair, and Kurt had just yawned and remarked that if she got smudged eyeliner all over the throw cushions then some fuzzy kitten sweaters were going to get it. Blaine had just smiled and pulled him down the hall.<p>

It was pretty clear that, as much as they 's had every intention of celebrating, and as soon as possible, they were both on the downward slope of the alcohol and adrenaline. Honestly, Blaine reflected, as he groaned and crawled onto the bed fully clothed, he was just too fucking tired to think, let alone make Kurt feel as good as he wanted to, to make him understand how glad he was that they were giving each other this, promising this, for the rest of their lives.

This is what he _thought_.

What he _said_ was "uuunntiiiredddd".

He heard Kurt hum sleepily in agreement from the other side of the room, and a clean t-shirt landed on top of him.

" 's cold," Kurt explained when he half -heartedly groped for it, one eye lifting from the pillow.

He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the new one over his head. "You're so good to me."

Kurt hummed again as he folded his pants and put them in the hamper, moving to do an abbreviated version of his nightly skincare routine.

Blaine put significant effort into lifting his upper body off the comforter. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." He sounded awed, and the alcohol had mellowed him to a buzzing sleepiness and certainty.

Kurt raised an eyebrow and paused with the damp washcloth on his jaw. "Haven't we technically started that already?"

Blaine rested his chin on his hand. "But now we're engaged." His smile widened. "I'll bet engagement sex is gonna be _awesome_."

"Is it only engagement sex the first time?"

Blaine frowned. "I don't think so. I think it'll be awesome after that, too."

His fiancé snorted. "Oh, good."

"You don't think it'll be awesome?"

Kurt put down the bottle he was holding - the blue one, the one that smelled like vanilla, Blaine thought - and turned from the mirror to meet his eye. Tired, but unbelievably happy and only a little tipsy. "I think, engaged, or married, I will always love everything about us, and what we do for each other."

Blaine stared and tilted his head. "You are so awesome. How are you so awesome?"

Kurt moved to the bed, adjusting the pillows and nudging his fiancé where his foot flopped off the side of the bed. "It's a gift. Pants off." He saw the tired smile on Blaine's face as he tried valiantly to spring up from the bed and waggle an eyebrow. "Blaine… we're exhausted."

"But we haven't been alone _all day_… it was like... _forever_."

He pulled him close by the metal buckle, slowly working the leather out and through the belt-loops. "I don't know about you, but I've really been looking forward to this all evening -"

"Did you see what you did to me downstairs? Fuck, I nearly -"

He paused, and when Blaine didn't move sighed and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down over his hips so Blaine could wriggle out of them. "And when we do this, when we're naked, and all over each other, and sweaty, and I can feel this ring on my finger -"

Blaine made an undignified whining noise as he stepped out of the cuffs and leaned into Kurt's hand on his cheek.

"I want to take my time with you, and say thank you for loving me, and make you believe all over and over again that I want you, and I need you, and I'm so glad that you need me too." He stroked his jaw. "And we're a little drunk, and drunk sex is nice, sometimes, but is that what you want right now?"

Blaine pursed his lips.

"…Or do you want to curl up, and go to sleep, and wake up, and start the new year off right?'

Blaine sighed, hands resting on his waist. "I'm so sleepy, and I hate that you're smart."

Kurt tapped his chin and moved away. "Not just another pretty face."

Blaine clung. "Pretty _everything_. Handsome everything._ Sexy_ everything."

Kurt laughed a little hoarsely and stifled another yawn, climbing onto the bed. Blaine rain his hands through his hair and collapsed next to him, turning to nuzzle into his shoulder.

"I hate that it's too cold to be naked," he said into Kurt's arm. "I love naked. Naked is the _best_."

Kurt patted his shoulder. "You can be naked tomorrow. Go brush your teeth."

He did, making a displeased noise, reclaiming his place on the bed with little grace.

He made a noise of approval, pulling the blankets and duvet over them with a minimal amount of actual movement, setting into Kurt. "I think I'll keep you."

Kurt snorted again, humming when Blaine pressed a lazy kiss to his collarbone. "How generous of you."

"'night. Thank you for being engaged to me."

He laughed into the dark, reaching to switch off the bedside lamp."Goodnight. And you are so, so welcome."

"Your eyes are, like, awesome. They're like the bluest of all the blue things. They're like... Blueest greeniest greyest bluest blue…"

"_Goodnight_, Blaine. I love you."

"Mmm… 's good…very good."


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine's tongue felt weird, like someone had covered it in something numbing. He moved it around in his mouth experimentally. Yep. _Weird_.

There was a warm hand running up and down his arm, gently, but that wasn't what had woken him - if anything it was soothing. He didn't really know that anything had especially, but aside from the tongue thing, everything was very, very nice. Everything smelled good, and there was the smell of Christmas, and of Kurt, and a little bit of cold (did cold _have_ a smell?), and more of Kurt…

"Good morning."

Blaine finally acknowledged the fact that he was eventually going to need to move his eyelids, and when he had blinked a few times he decided that it was totally worth the effort. Kurt was lying next to him on top of the covers, his head propped up on the pillow by one arm, the other resting on Blaine's shoulder. His eyes were bright, and he was smiling.

"Morning," he finally managed. "What time is it?"

"About eleven." Kurt's fingers tapped out a light rhythm. "Sleep well?"

"Mmmm. Happy New Year. Again." He brought his own fingers to tangle with the ones on his shoulder, pausing when he felt the metal, a different kind of smooth from skin. His smile was immediate. "Oh, yeah."

"I wondered when you'd remember that," Kurt smirked.

"I hadn't _forgotten_," he objected. "I was just waking up."

Kurt just hummed. "How're you feeling?"

"Engaged," he muttered sleepily. "You?"

"Hungry." Blaine nudged him. "What? I am."

"How's your head?"

"Fine. I drank water last night."

"I believe I was promised epic engagement sex."

"Yes. Yes you were." Blaine rolled towards him with great intent, but landed face down on the bed where his fiancé had just lay. "Hey!" he objected into the sheets.

"Food first," Kurt said decisively from next to the bed. "You've got to be hungry too."

He was, and so reluctantly lifted his head from the sheets.

"I think we have eggs - you feel like an omelet?"

Eggs were Blaine's weakness. For reasons they had never been able to determine his culinary skills - which were by no means gourmet, but he knew his way around a kitchen - did not extent to making eggs that did not appear to have been viciously attacked by some kind of wild animal.

"There's still some of the waffle batter you made yesterday," Kurt continued. "I'll make you eggs if you make me waffles, and then we can finish packing and -"

Blaine noticed the open suitcases on the floor. "How long have you been awake?"

He shrugged. "Not long. An hour?"

"And you didn't eat?"

"I wanted to wait for my fiancé."

"Best word _ever_."

"I'm going to make some coffee." He nudged him. "Are you going to fall back asleep?"

"With the promise of eggs, coffee, and sex?" He grinned wolfishly and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to assess the damage. "What kind of boy do you think I am?"

"The kind who would do pretty much anything for a mushroom and cheese omelet."

"You are my favorite of _all_ my fiancés."

Kurt peeled himself off the bed and made for the door. "And don't you forget it."

Blaine blinked after him as he sauntered out the door (and that was a saunter, no question), and then untangled himself from the sheet that had wrapped itself around his legs.

* * *

><p>By the time he got to the kitchen there was coffee brewing, and his fiancé - <em>fianc<em>é - was leaning against the counter, his back to the door. Kurt must have heard him, but didn't turn until he had his arms wrapped around him from behind, and even then he just craned his neck a little to the side to give Blaine's lips better access to the skin they were tracing. After a moment Kurt took his hands off the pans he was clattering around in a useful-looking manner and wrapped an arm loosely back around Blaine's neck.

"Coffee's on."

"Mmmhmm."

"Blaine, I need to get the cheese grater."

"Mmmhmm."

"Blaine. You need to mo - ah. Okay, that's really nice."

Blaine detached from his neck. "Yeah?"

"You stopped."

"I have very important engagement waffles to make for my fiancé. He's very picky, you know."

"Is he?"

"Very. Besides, you have important eggs to make."

"Engagement eggs."

Blaine swatted the hand that had crept its way down to his lower back. "Yes."

Kurt pouted as Blaine moved to the refrigerator.

"You're the one who got us out of bed," Blaine defended. "Don't you start with me."

"There's a joke there," he replied airily. "Something about finishing." He cracked the egg into a bowl with a smirk.

"You slay me." Blaine set the cheese and leftover waffle mix on the counter, lightly brushing the small of Kurt's back as he passed. The slight shift of weight from one foot to the other, a sharp exhale, made him smile.

This was going to feel like a very long breakfast.

* * *

><p>"…it wouldn't be the first time."<p>

"We are older now, and more mature. We had impulse control issues."

"We cleaned the table afterwards."

"You are not the one who had to look my father in the eye at dinner that night."

"I'm just saying, it would mean sooner -"

"Eat your toast, Blaine."

* * *

><p>"…swear, every time I came over. He <em>knew<em>."

"You're being ridiculous."

"No, seriously. He'd look at me over dinner, and I'd be suddenly convinced that my forehead read _101 ways I have defiled your son._"

"You are the most absurd human being on the planet. And since when do you eat so slowly? I have plans, Blaine. Plans of a defiling nature."

"It's good, though."

"I'm glad the food is good. I just think that, considering the speed you're eating it, naked might be better."

"Mmmmnnfffished."

"I'm sure. Maybe I'll start without you."

"Mnnawnt."

"Fine. I'll make myself tea, then."

* * *

><p>When they'd first gotten to Lima, in the aftermath of a busy month of work for Kurt and a hellish finals week for Blaine, they'd gotten a little carried away with the idea of having no obligations and an empty house to themselves for eight hours at a time. Burt and Carole were at work, and Finn wasn't home for the holidays yet, so in those first couple days, with glorious hours to themselves, they had basically only surfaced from Kurt's room when absolutely necessary. Their time off in New York was rare, and always so rushed that they could count on one hand (if their hands weren't otherwise occupied) the number of times in the last year they'd had <em>days<em> to just be together and enjoy each other in whatever way they wanted.

And sometimes cuddling was the most important thing. Sometimes one or both of them was preoccupied with work, or the beginnings of a cold, or trying to remember if they ever got that new lightbulb for the refrigerator, and an orgasm would be followed by them going their separate ways. Sometimes they just wanted to go to goddamn sleep, no matter how horny their boyfriend seemed to be. Sometimes one or both of them was still not done with the argument they'd had yesterday, and it would be a cold day in hell before the other got anything more than a cold shoulder, if they had anything to say about it. And sometimes when they found themselves alone in their apartment, for what felt like the first time in forever, they wanted to talk seriously about switching brands of fabric softener, or curl up on the couch next to each other reading.

Not only were they not always in the mood, and they were (apparently) adults living full lives, so they didn't usually have the time to be the sex-crazed honeymooners their friends tried to imply. The last time they'd had a significant amount of shared time off - the urgent, needy, touching variety - had been a week over the summer, after Kurt's graduation, when they'd spent a blissful four days with their phones off, suitcases already packed for their short visit home, wrapped up in each other to the point that the harsh realities of the_ fifth_ day were a shock - Kurt couldn't wake Blaine up over the course of half an hour with kisses and tiny nips to his jaw, and they couldn't live off of the graduation cake and casserole that Carole had left when she and Burt had returned to Ohio. They had to go grocery shopping, they _really_ had to do laundry (and that was just another way Kurt knew he was in love, because those_ sheets_ were going to be hell to clean-), and Blaine had to go pick up some books before his shift, while Kurt filled out the paperwork for the changes in his internship that took effect once he officially had his degree. There was re-packing to do, and Kurt wanted to reorganize the living room furniture, and Blaine was probably going to have to stay an extra few days, or even a week, in Ohio, to deal with some financial papers that his parents wanted him to sign...

The memory of those four days had gotten them through a busy summer in which they had often wanted nothing more than to lie underneath the air conditioning, stripped to bare skin and maybe reminding each other of all the ways they'd grown since they first met.

Minus the need for air conditioning, their alone time in this winter visit had had a similar undercurrent of longing and need at first, to the point where by the time Finn had arrived, and Burt and Carole had time off for the holidays, they weren't sick of each other, per se, or of sex (heaven forbid), but the urgency had abated, and they _were_ becoming aware that they were at risk of being perceived as sex-crazed, anti-social hermits, a horrible cliche of a couple, and as the raw _need_ had lessened significantly, so they both could and _should_ probably calm down. Which just reminded them how much they loved being together, and also being able to walk, and so they managed to interact like normal human beings who hadn't spent weeks at a time trying to _find_ the time to enjoy each other.

But being engaged, that was something to _celebrate_, and while there would probably be family-friendly toasts and festivities in the next couple of days, before they left, and probably an actual official party at some point later, too - Kurt suggested themes between bites of waffle - what they needed was some time to acknowledge, on a physical as well as an emotional level, what this meant to them. And while, for them, the physical would always _be_ emotional, Blaine just really, really needed to feel Kurt's hands and mouth all over him, touch and kiss him in return, and know that this would be his forever. He'd known it for a long time, but the ring Kurt was now wearing, the promise they'd officially, legally make to each other, that they'd made yesterday, made years ago, really, was a tangible physical reminder. They were doing this. It wasn't just something they talked shyly about, eluded to but didn't dwell on for fear that they seemed presumptuous or overeager.

This was _theirs,_ and they wanted to celebrate that.

* * *

><p>"What're you doing?"<p>

"Making sandwiches."

"You're still hungry? I would've made more waffles."

Kurt gave him a look as he spread margarine on the bread. "They aren't for _now_. They're for _later_, when we have absolutely no desire to cook anything."

Blaine blinked, took the knife he'd left on the counter and cut the completed one in half. "You have the best ideas," he said emphatically. "The _best_."

"I know. Do you want to make a salad to go with it?"

"Cheese?"

He hummed in agreement. "There should be some olives in there too."

"I picked up some of the lettuce you like when I went out with Carole."

They moved around each other, used to the minuscule space in their own apartment. As Kurt put seasoning on the sandwiches - "there's no reason for them to be _boring_, Blaine" - Blaine mixed a salad, tapping his foot and leaning against the counter when he was done.

Kurt snorted as he took out saran wrap. "Patience, Anderson."

"I'm not doing _anything_. Why do you need to wrap them, anyway? Just leave them. They'll be fine. Let's go upstairs."

"The bread will dry out."

He placed a hand on his fiancé's waist. "I'm okay with that."

"I'll bet you are." He ripped a segment of the plastic off, placing it over the plate. "Maybe I'll shred some carrots to go with the -" Blaine's groan broke him into a grin. "Kidding, kidding." He closed the refrigerator door with a flourish, then spun around, hands behind his back as he leaned against the door. "So, whatever shall we do with ourselves n -"

He was cut off by Blaine's lips, the breath pressed out of him as he stepped back, Blaine's arms wrapping around him to make sure he wouldn't be impaled on any of the magnets (_and yeah, that's love_).

"Hi," Blaine murmured after a minute. "Would you like to go upstairs?"

Kurt placed his hands on his shoulders and pushed him back in answer, stepping away, when Blaine's smile faltered in confusion, he held out his hand.

Blaine took it.

* * *

><p>Halfway up the stairs Kurt paused and laughed to himself. Blaine raised an eyebrow in question.<p>

He grinned. "Are we seriously celebrating our engagement with an afternoon of sex?"

"Can you think of anything you'd rather do right now? Because I really, really can't."

"Isn't it kind of…"

"I don't know about you, but I think we live lives busy enough that we should embrace the opportunity and desire for marathon sex - especially _engagement_ sex - whenever it comes."

"No pun intended."

"Pun absolutely intended. Over and over."

Kurt pulled him up the next set of stairs, pausing on the landing. "Thank you for asking me."

"Thank you for saying yes."

"No, I mean… I know we've talked about it a lot, and I was going to make it happen - we were going to make it happen - but… thank you for doing it."

Blaine pulled him close for a peck on the lips. "You are so, so welcome. It was entirely selfish, though. I just wanted to go to Fiji."

He rolled his eyes. "Fiji was happening anyway." He paused, looking a little nervous, and perhaps a little guilty. "I know it seems extravagant, and we don't have a lot to spend, but with the money my parents gave us for birthdays, and the cheque from your parents paying our rent for a few months, it was something we wanted to do. It might be a little tight for a while, and I -"

"It's _perfect_…." he frowned as the entirety of what Kurt had said struck him. They'd talked a little about this already since Christmas, but it clearly needed to be revisited, and that information - exactly what Kurt had done to save for this - was new. "But, wait, your birthday money, I know you had plans to replace the -"

"That can wait," Kurt said simply. "I wanted to do this with you. For you. Us. We have the money - just, as long as we're careful. And it was going to be a precursor to some other plans," he smirked at his ring finger, hand resting on Blaine's arm, "but you've sped those up a little too."

"Now we get to save for a wedding," he said with relish, jolting when he saw Kurt's expression tighten. "_Kurt_, don't worry. We'll have money put aside for this, and we'll make it work. You can make anything beautiful." He lifted a hand to his fiancé's cheek. "Don't go there, yet, okay? We haven't even set a date. And even if we have our reception at Taco Bell, it'll be amazing, because we'll be married, and -"

"We are not," Kurt said emphatically, "having our reception at _Taco Bell_."

"I know, I was just saying, if we did it would still -"

"Taco Bell has a _dollar menu_, Blaine," he said dismissively. "We cannot have our reception somewhere that has a _dollar menu_."

"I wasn't saying -"

Kurt's eyes were a little panicked. "It's going to be so expensive -" He took a deep, calming breath, and met Blaine's eyes, looking a little queasy. "Blaine, I know that finances are always an issue, especially because I'm not making much right now, but we can make it, this is our wedding, and we'll have ideas about the wedding, we can discuss them, because I'm in love with you and the important thing is that we're getting married, right? We'll make it work, and we'll make it beautiful. And, I mean, we're on the same page, I know we are, we've talked about some possible -"

"Kurt. Kurt, listen to me."

"- shouldn't have bought those pants -"

"Those pants make your ass look amazing," Blaine said firmly, tugging him close. "You're getting carried away. You know we'll be fine. We'll go on vacation, celebrate, and then once we're home we can start thinking about logistics. Because that's what it is." He pressed a kiss to his jaw. "It's just the where and the when of how we stand up and tell everyone we're spending our lives together."

He felt Kurt smile. "They already know that."

"Well, then, it's a reminder. With hors d'oeuvres."

There was a pause. "I just went a little insane, didn't I?"

"A little." Kurt leaned their heads together as Blaine continued. "You had to deal with me during finals, though, so I think we're pretty much even."

"My favorite was the night the coffee maker broke, after you hadn't slept properly for about two days, and you decided that mixing powdered sugar with orange juice would have the same effect if taken in large enough doses."

Blaine winced, then smiled as Kurt's hand came to card through his hair at the nape of his neck. "See? We balance each other's crazy."

"I still do not understand your logic in dismissing the instant -"

"Well, now that the coffee maker's broken, I guess we're going to learn to love it -"

"…but yes, we do." Kurt toyed with the hem of Blaine's t-shirt. "Blaine?"

"Mhmm?"

"I'm wearing an engagement ring…"

"I'd noticed. What? Did you want something diff -"

"No, no, it's perfect. I just… had you thought… or decided whether that was something you were interested in doing?"

"I told you, remember? I have."

"Have what?"

"Thought and decided."

"And?"

"I'd love to. I want to." He gave his waist a squeeze. "You know that."

"Oh. Yes, I did. I just…" He bit his lower lip. "I may or may not have a surprise for you. When we get back to New York."

Blaine smile was blinding. "You bought me a ring?"

"You'll have wait and see." But Kurt's face was so open, so overflowing with everything he was feeling, that Blaine's only possible response was to take a step back, pull off his t-shirt, and pull him into the bedroom.

* * *

><p>When Kurt had come home for his first summer as a college student, full of stories and plans for when Blaine joined him in the fall, it had meant a great many things. Packing tape, for one, and quite a few nights spent making out in their driveways, stolen nights when houses were empty, and barbecues with people who they really should have stayed in better touch with, and <em>next year, absolutely, it would be different…<em>

It also meant parties.

At the second major party, a _hey we're still all together again - let's get trashed_ to follow the oh _my god, we're all together again - let's get trashed_ of the previous week, Santana had commandeered the bottles fairly quickly, and was mixing drinks. About an hour in she loudly proclaimed that it was time for the next shot, a blowjob, and this one should be right up _some people_'s alley (with a not-at-all subtle wink in the direction of the couch where Kurt and Blaine were sitting). Blaine was designated driver, an agreement that had been reached after last week, when tequila resulted in the ruin of Kurt's boots, but Kurt, on his second drink, just rolled his eyes.

Santana loudly addressed the room, waving the bottle of Bailey's . "C'mon, anyone who wants to try, y' need _special skills_… but perhaps it's a little too much for some… we can't all just know how to work it that way-"

"Ignore her," Blaine muttered softly, not for the first time that night. "Ignore her, you don't have to prove anything-"

Kurt's back had straightened, and there was a gleam in his eye. He peeled himself off Blaine's lap, swinging his hips as he moved to join Tina and Brittany by the shot glasses lined up.

Santana smirked as she added the whipped cream to each shot glass. " 'K. On the count of three. No hands, Britt, like - yeah. One… two… three!"

From whee he was sitting Blaine couldn't see much, but it would have been difficult to miss Tina dissolving into giggles as she spilled liquor all over herself. Brittany was poking at the whipped cream with her index finger. Santana had managed most of the shot, a little dribbling down her chin, but the next thing that he saw was Kurt standing up, hands behind his back, head held deliberately high, empty shot glass spotless on the table. He took the few steps back to Blaine's lap, and his boyfriend was having difficulty in thinking very coherently.

"You, uh, have a little…" he trailed off as Kurt's tongue flicked out to catch the spot of whipped cream on his lip.

"Thanks," he smiled smugly.

Blaine wasn't sure if he was meant to hear Santana's quiet "Get it, Hummel," but by that point Kurt's tongue had found new places to be, so he didn't really care.

* * *

><p>Kurt licking his lips wasn't exactly something that created a Pavlovian response in Blaine - because really, that would have been a <em>huge problem<em>. It was the look, though, the look from that night. When Kurt wanted Blaine, when those eyes looked at him _just like that_, it was so many things all at once. It was lust, yes, but it was also trust, love, an affirmation that every single thing that had happened to them had led them there, together.

And Kurt was looking at him like that right now, spread out on his bed, shirt discarded, and yeah, Blaine wanted this. He wanted this forever, he wanted them forever, and he wanted every single person in the world to know that he was marrying the love of his life, and it was going to be fucking _awesome_.

But most of all he wanted to touch Kurt all over until they both forgot their own names.

So he did.

* * *

><p>It had been a running joke amongst their friends, primarily during Blaine's first years in New York, that Kurt and Blaine were the most vanilla couple any of them knew. This was pure speculation, based on snooping and theorizing, but privately even they admitted that it might be sort of the truth. They hadn't ever really felt the need or desire to do anything all that "kinky" (with the airquotes) in the bedroom, at least by some of their friends' standards (and some of their friends liked telling <em>stories<em>), simply because they were totally happy with what they were doing (in the little time they actually had alone). Who needed things that sounded complicated (and in some stories _painful _and frankly_ unappealing_) when the things they were doing still surprised and excited them with their intensity?

Still, they had figured, it couldn't hurt to try something new.

So, one weekend Kurt dug out his least expensive scarves, Blaine tied him loosely to the headboard, and they decided that "stop" would be fine as their safeword, because it was simple and effective.

Only, the scarves weren't silk, so they rubbed uncomfortably on Kurt's wrists, and Kurt really liked to be able to touch Blaine, and when he held down his wrists it was one thing, because that was kind of hot, and gentle, but this just felt _inconvenient_, and Blaine kept noticing that he was uncomfortable, and asking him what was wrong, if he wanted to stop, and offering to get him a drink of water, until finally they just called off the whole thing and went to make pasta for lunch.

Of course, an hour later Blaine ended up fucking him – slow, deep, _perfect _- on the kitchen table, and then later they used the cheap scarves to clean up the water that got on the floor when Kurt fucked _him_ in the shower (they couldn't find any clean towels, and Blaine _really _needed to do the laundry - it was his turn), so it wasn't a total loss.

* * *

><p>It was getting dark when they made it down to the kitchen to eat the sandwiches. Blaine still had a relaxed grin on his face, which grew wider whenever he saw Kurt's mussed hair, and the way his fingers ran through it, ring glinting when it caught the light.<p>

They were sitting eating the salad in peaceful silence when their eyes caught, and they both smiled.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing." Blaine popped a cherry tomato into his mouth. "Just looking at my fiancé."

Kurt smirked.

"What?"

"Nothing." Kurt paused. "You do realize that once they all find out ..._everyone_ is going to want to talk about it."

"New Directions didn't."

"New Directions, or what remains of it after last night, was incredibly drunk." He sipped his water. "Once Rachel Berry pieces events back together I'm betting our phones will blow up."

"They haven't today."

"I turned them off."

"That would explain it."

He shrugged. "I just thought we should have today."

"Believe me, I'm not complaining." He took in Kurt's lone lettuce leaf, his own empty plate. "You know, today isn't over."

Kurt picked up their plates, running them under water and leaving them on the counter.

"Believe me," he said, head tilted to the side. "I know."

When they fell asleep that night, wrapped up in each other, exhausted, relaxed, and so ready for the next year that it seemed almost overwhelming, Blaine traced the metal band on Kurt's finger, following the grooves as their breath settled.

Kurt brought Blaine's hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the ring finger. "Just reserving my place for later," he said softly.

Blaine hummed. "Tomorrow is going to be crazy. Burt and Carole, and I'm going to have to pick up some stuff from my house. And then we leave, I have to pack -"

"Shhh… it's okay. One thing at a time," Kurt reminded him. "It isn't even tomorrow yet."

Blaine just gave into the instinct to snuggle further into the pillow. "Tomorrow is one day closer to marrying you," he pointed out.

"So was yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that…"

"But now we're engaged."

"Yes," Kurt pulled him a little closer, the ambient light just enough that Blaine could see his face. "But I think I always knew we'd get here. I mean… after a point, this was always what we wanted…"

"I know what you mean."

"But it being inevitable doesn't make it _not_ one of the greatest moments of my life, and it doesn't mean that I don't feel incredibly lucky -"

"Me too."

Kurt kissed him on the cheek and sighed. "See you tomorrow?"

"Mhmm. 'night."

A long pause.

"Kurt?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Can we have mexican food for lunch tomorrow? All that talk of Tacos-"

"You are _so_ lucky I love you..."

"…is that a yes?"


End file.
